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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707989">Two Sides</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorbie05/pseuds/Lorbie05'>Lorbie05</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Death Eaters, Dom/sub, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:22:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>619</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29707989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorbie05/pseuds/Lorbie05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She'd never be able to justify their time together, but in the end would it really matter?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Antonin Dolohov/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Orgasms for Days: A Smut for Cece Collective</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Two Sides</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecemarty/gifts">cecemarty</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a little drabble for Cecemarty. I'm sorry life has been rough, friend. I hope you know we're there for you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Some might call it Stockholm Syndrome, others might call it Daddy Issues. Either way, Hermione knew the emotions that overtook her body the moment Antonin held her flush against his own weren’t normal. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Did she give a fuck? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Absolutely not. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>While she’d never be able to justify her reasons for meeting the Death Eater for quick and dirty fucks whenever he called, she couldn’t give him up—nor did she want to. There was something about the way he possessed her whenever they were together that left her yearning for more. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She loved the way he lavished attention to the long jagged scar bisecting her torso. The purple line, roughly sewn together, was a constant reminder of the night he had burnt himself into her flesh. Antonin called her his little kotyonok while he traced the line with his tongue. She was his, he would say, the mark proving his claim. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And she was his, in every possible way she could be. He had her body—how she yielded to his demands. She craved the way he could guide her through her climaxes, legs clenched and voice hoarse, screaming out his name. He had her mind—always challenging her to find a solution outside of her books. He encouraged her to use her brain in ways other than regurgitating facts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In a way, she had him as well. Hermione certainly had his body; that was hers alone. She enjoyed picking his brain in the moments while their bodies cooled and they fought to regain their breaths. Hermione knew he had created the spell that left her marked, and she knew he had been on his way to becoming an Unspeakable before he was arrested. He was a genius in his own right, and Hermione couldn’t help wanting to learn from him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were playing a dangerous game, and they both knew it. Neither spoke to the other about their comrades; an unspoken truce when they were together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Antonin wasn’t pleasant, and he certainly wasn’t nice, but then again, the war in which they’d found themselves was also neither of those things. It was brutal and harsh, but if she had to give up everything for Harry, then she could be selfish enough to take what she wanted too. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wanted him—his dirty words surrounding her in his rough cadence. His hands calloused and hard, as he gripped her neck and smacked her arse. His lips tasting and biting her flesh, leaving marks upon her skin. His cock thick and ridged, filling every space of her core, making her beg for more. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hermione knew she’d never get enough of him. Antonin was tattooed on her soul as dark as the mark on his forearm. She craved him as much as he craved the approval of his Master, and for that reason alone, she knew they were ill-suited, that they wouldn’t—couldn’t—last.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In those moments when they were alone, she could forget they were on two different sides of the same war, that they weren’t just a man and woman, a master and servant, a dominant and submissive—they were more than that. They were soldiers, both fighting for what they believed was right, and in the end, willing to destroy the other for their side to win.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So yes, she would take what she could get—his mind, his body, but never his soul, and certainly, never his love—until she couldn’t. When it came time for the culmination of the war—they would end—still two sides of the same coin; one in victory and one in defeat. But for now, she would live for the nights in the dark, but fight for days in the light.</p>
<p> </p>
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